


Stop Scaring Me

by Rulerofthecosmosandsnails



Series: Miscellaneous Kat/Merula [3]
Category: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sort Of, Vomiting, also feat merula’s massive crush on player but she doesn’t admit it bc she’s a coward, feat dueling club ocs, first part’s fine and emetophobia-safe, for the second part, idiots to friends??, im here to remedy that, kind of, one of whom may or may not be a reference, there’s a lack of sickfics in this tag, they’re not friends tbh they r friend/ly/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rulerofthecosmosandsnails/pseuds/Rulerofthecosmosandsnails
Summary: Merula’s chilling upstairs in the dueling club, waiting for her next match, when a certain someone decides to collapse during her duel. Goddamnit, she can’t do anything right, can she?
Relationships: Merula Snyde/Original Character(s), Player Character/Merula Snyde
Series: Miscellaneous Kat/Merula [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971796
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

The dueling club of Hogwarts was always a whirlwind of activity, and today was no exception. All the grounds were currently occupied by two or more students facing off in single, double, or even the occasional triple match. Those not preoccupied dodging curses and sending a nasty hex back where observing from the second floor, watching the matches top-down through the one-way transparent floor. Some were polishing their wands and checking for nicks and scratches before their next fight, others were casting minor healing spells on their bruises, while others milled about and chatted with friends. Merula Snyde did none of those things, simply choosing to scrutinize the fights going on beneath her with a critical violet eye. 

She sat on a rickety old rickety chair, slumped forward with her hand supporting her chin and glaring down at one duelist in particular. Long blonde hair whipped to the side as she darted past a uncomfortably close hex (the remnants of a hair-tie was buried somewhere underneath all the dirt and dust of the school-sanctioned battlefield), and she grinned that infuriating grin of hers as she sent a spell back, neither of them giving the other any time to pause. Even from up above, Merula could practically feel that aura of idiotic confidence Ekaterina Solokov always fought with; her grey eyes were blazing, and her mouth was quirked in that sly smirk that she always wore when she was executing a new strategy. It was disgusting. 

Though, she supposed that in a way, she had earned that stupid little expression. Even she could admit that the other was an excellent duelist – not as good as the most powerful witch at Hogwarts, of course, but not as horrible as some of the other utterly incompetent wizards that over populated the club. However begrudgingly, Merula could see that Solokov was as creative with her spells as she was socially inept. That didn’t mean she had to like it, though. 

She sighed through her nose and pressed her chin harder into her hand, nearly glaring two holes into the mock-glass floor. Merula felt a grimace tug at the edges of her lips as she watched her fire a purple jet of magic at her opponent, which hit them straight in the chest and sent them stumbling back until their heels grazed the out-of-bounds line. Solokov rushed towards, them eager to finish them off in one final blow, at least before they managed to get their bearings and sent a burst of red light that hit her square in the stomach and rolled her tail-over-tea-kettle in the dirt and sprawled her out like a badly-positioned bear-skin rug. Merula rolled her eyes; she knew what was coming. She’d pop right back up, dusty and dirty yet grinning like the maniac she was and return the spell with twice the firepower. 

Except she didn’t. 

Solokov stayed strewn in the dirt, chest heaving as staring intently at nothing. Her opponent lowered their wand, saying something that she couldn’t make out over the crashes, bangs, and booms of the other duelists. She didn’t respond – or at least, Merula couldn’t see if she did. 

She could be faking, her brain supplied, lulling them into a false sense of security and waiting until their guard had dropped enough to deliver that final strike… it wasn’t her style, though. If there was anything she knew about her – and she knew more than she’d ever liked to know about the moron – it’s that she likes a straight fight, at least when she was in the club. Merula worried her lip between her teeth and made the executive decision to stand and stomp down the stairs to see what was up. 

When she got down to the ground floor, Solokov had rolled over and was making a valiant attempt to sit up. Merula doesn’t quite remember crossing the room, but she found herself dropping to her knees beside her and roughly grabbing under her armpits to help her sit up, supporting her head against her shoulder. Her entire body seemed coated in sweat and she could feel the heat emanating from her forehead, not to mention that her cheeks were a cherry red. Solokov blinked blearily up at her, like she couldn’t quite remember who she was. “Snyde…? What’re you doing here?” 

“I’m a part of this club too, you idiot. I came down here when you just decided to fall over – “ (“Well, I didn’t really _decide_ to.”) – “and not get up.” Heaving an angry sigh, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and brought out her wand. “Open your mouth.”

“Huh? What for – “

Merula’s wand was unceremoniously shoved into her mouth before she even got through her sentence. Maybe a bit too hard, as it forcefully hit the bottom of her mouth and she made a noise that sounded like a cross between a cough and a gag.

She closed her mouth with a gentle tap. “Puke on me, and I end you.”

“Mmrph,” came the intelligent reply. 

It could have meant anything, but Merula chose to interpret it as affirmation. It was just easier that way.“Capere Calidite.”

Nothing seemed to happen, but when Merula pulled her want out of her mouth a few moment later, the tip glowed an angry red. She looked from the wand to Solokov, and then cuffed the Ravenclaw on the head with her free hand. 

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“That was for coming to the club when you’re clearly sick, you idiot.”

Her nose scrunched up as she looked at her in confusion. “What? I’m not sick.”

One of Merula’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Are you seriously about to tell me that you feel fine. Are you seriously doing this to me right now.”

“But I do!”

“You see this? You see this wand?” She shoved the point of the glow in front of her face, causing her eyes to cross to try and look at it. “The color means you’ve got a fever, dumbfuck. You going to tell me that it’s normal?”

“I – uh…” Solokov grinned nervously at her. “I run hotter than usual…?”

As Merula screwed up her face to yell at her some more, the other’s opponent ran back on the scene with the club president in tow. Merula hadn’t even noticed that they had left.

“What seems to be the problem?” The president – a seventh-year Hufflepuff named “Corrin Heyes” who wore glasses with lenses as thick as bottlecaps – asked. Her opponent simply stood in the background and looked anxious.

Solokov opened her mouth to answer, but Merula beat her to it. “Solokov’s got a fever but still insists on dueling, Heyes. I don’t think I need to explain why that’s idiotic.”

Heyes fixed the Ravenclaw with a stern, but concerned glare. “Solokov. I may be blind as a bat, but even I can see that you’re sicker than a dog. We’ll postpone your match with Nav until you’re better.”

“But I – “

“Solokov.” Merula was very amused at seeing her sufficiently cowed by the club president. The smile faded as she rounded on her, however her glare was tampered. “Snyde, would you mind taking Solokov to the hospital wing? I don’t trust her to make it there on her own.”

“Hey!”

She frowned. “Do I have too? I’ve got a match in five minutes, so – “

Heyes waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind that. I’ll give you first dibs on your partner and section tomorrow. Now get going.”

With no further arguments – Merula could sense that Solokov was trying, but couldn’t come up with a convincing one – Heyes turned on her heel and walked off to another part of the club, where a loud bang just sounded from. 

“Alright, moron.” She grabbed underneath Solokov’s armpits again and helped her stand up – quidditch practice was paying off, it seemed. “Come on. Let’s go.”

As Merula slung the other’s arm around her shoulders to stabilize her (a little awkwardly, since Solokov was over fifteen centimeters taller than her), she heard her mumble a quiet, “I’m sorry…”

“I don’t want your pitiful fucking apologies,” she snapped as they lumbered out of the clubroom together, “You chose to fight while sick, and now you’re paying the price. Deal with it.” 

A frustrated sigh was her only forthcoming response, so they continued walking down the corridor in silence. Merula’s boots made hearty clumps on the stone floor as she stomped to the infirmary, the sound nearly drowning out her own thoughts. They turned a corner, and then another, and the darkness of the dungeons was soon split by the light streaming in through old glass windows. It wasn’t very harsh, but Solokov winced and haphazardly threw an arm over her eyes. 

She raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

“Mhm. ‘S just bright.” Merula felt her stop, and turned to ask what she was doing, but before she could get a word out, she began to cough wetly into her sleeve. Luckily, it wasn’t long until she finished, and Solokov turned to blink at her with bleary eyes that didn’t quite match her rueful little laugh. “Merlin, now that I’m not doing anything it’s just hitting me full-force.”

“All the more reason to drop you off at Madam Pomfrey’s so I don’t have to deal with you anymore.”

Solokov answered as they began to walk again. “You wound me, Snyde, you really do.” 

“Get over it.”

“Yeowch – “ As she was about to continue, probably to say more banal and infuriating garbage that Merula just had to tolerate for the moment, her breath stuttered in her chest and her head snapped down into her elbow in the most violent yet quietest sneeze she’d ever heard. _“K’tch!”_

“My god, you’ve just got a myriad of symptoms, don’t you? Ah, fuck, don’t do that, that’s fucking gross - “ Solokov looked up from where she was wiping her nose on her sleeve to find a small square of cloth nearly slapped against her cheek – “could you get anymore disgusting? Don’t answer that; of course you can. Now take it.”

“Oh, uh… thanks?” She blew her nose with a soft honk and looked at her awkwardly when she was finished. “So, do I…?”

“Keep it. I’m never touching it again.” 

“Noted.”

The rest of the walk continued without another incident, though they did have to stop a couple time so that Solokov could cough or sneeze into her sleeve or handkerchief again. They stopped outside the foreboding double-doors to the infirmary and Merula all but shoved the Ravenclaw off her. 

She had the nerve to look surprised. “You aren’t going to come in with me?”

Merula scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Why would I? I’m sure even someone like you can make it into the hospital wing from here without collapsing.”

“But Madam Pomfrey’s going to yell at me…” Solokov fixed her with the saddest puppy-eyes she’s ever seen, which were no doubt bolstered by her illness. 

With a herculean effort, she managed to look away and stubbornly fix her gaze on the floor. “Well, you fucking deserve it. Listen, I’ll open the door for you, but that’s it. Got it?”

Grumbling under her breath, she conceded. “Fine. But tell Rowan to get the will out of my sock drawer if she kills me."

Merula couldn’t tell if she was joking about the will or not. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know, so she pulled open the door to distract herself. A sterile smell wafted through the air. “Get going.”

Solokov pouted. 

“GO.” 

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” She held her hands up in mock-surrender and drifted halfway through the door, before she looked back. “But tell Rowan about the – “ 

_“LEAVE.”_

Sticking out her tongue at her, she turned back and stumbled the rest of the way into the infirmary. Merula found herself childishly mimicking her as she watched her walk away, and quickly shut the door behind her. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache form at the back of her skull. 

“Fucking moron…” she mumbled under her breath as she started to walk the rest of the way back to the dueling club. She got about halfway down to the dungeons when Nav came skidding around the corner and nearly knocked her off her feet, dropping whatever they were holding in the process. 

“Ack! S-Sorry, Snyde – I just – “

“Just wasn’t looking where you were fucking going, maybe? The hell are you even doing? I thought you’d be sitting in Harrow’s lap and pitifully sobbing over your defeat.” 

“I-It was a draw – “ 

“Draw-schmaw. Solokov was kicking your ass and you know it.” She eyed the bag that had fallen on the ground with disdain. Something was familiar about it, but she wasn’t quite sure what. “Whose is that?” 

Nav scurried to bend down and pick it up, holding it to their chest. The sight sent a weird pang of anger through Merula. “It’s – It’s Kat’s. President Heyes wanted me to bring it up to her since she left it in the clubroom – “ 

Ah, that was it. 

“Give it to me.” Nav stood there dumbfounded, and Merula could feel the tenuous grip she had on her patience for the student slipping. “Goddamnit Nav, give it to me! I’ll take it to her.” 

“B-But why?” 

“Because knowing you, you’d trip over your own goddamn feet going up the stairs and land on the bag and break everything inside. I’ll be far more careful than you ever will be with it.” She held out her hand in a ‘hand it over’ motion. “I’m not going to repeat myself again, Nav. Give. It. To. Me.”

For one harrowing moment, it seemed like they were going to stand their ground, and in that case things were going to get ugly. Fortunately for Slytherin’s house points and Nav’s wellbeing, after that one tense second, they sighed and offered the bag to her. Merula snatched it up and immediately almost dropped it – what could she possibly have in there, bricks? Bricks made of solid steel? – but managed to heft it over her shoulder. As she turned to saunter off back to the hospital wing, she was feeling a little benevolent, so she shot them a glance out of the corner of her eye. 

“Thank you, Nav.” 

She didn’t bother with their reply, even walking away before they could answer properly. Walking back through the halls without Solokov leaning on her was a little weird, but she was mostly content without the fifty-two kilograms of pure, unfiltered idiot hanging over her shoulder. Of course, now she had a bag that she swore weighed more than Solokov herself – how the fuck did she even carry this around daily – so it was kind of like having her there anyways. 

Mercifully, though, the walk back to the infirmary was much quieter than it was before. She pushed open the double-doors and slipped inside the sterile, herb-scented room, feeling a bit out of place as she shut the door behind her. Madam Pomfrey was pushing a student with goat ears into a hospital bed before catching sight of the Slytherin standing there and gave them a few more stern words before bustling towards her. 

The healer looked her up and down. “What seems to be the problem, Miss Snyde?” 

“Oh, um, no problems, Madam Pomfrey.” As explanation, she tapped the bag on her shoulder. “Solokov forgot her bag in the dungeons. I’m just delivering it.” 

Pomfrey pursed her lips but gestured to a curtained-off bed at the far side of the room. “She’s resting over there. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got patients to attend too.” 

Without another word, the nurse stalked off, leaving Merula to walk across the off-white floor and intensely avoid eye contact with anyone who happened to be awake in the beds. Coming to a stop in front of the curtains, she tentatively slipped inside. 

The lighting had been magicked so that only the area inside the makeshift room was dimmed, and it had a warm maroon glow to it. Solokov was curled up on one side of the bed, sheets pulled almost up and over her head in a cocoon with the top half of her face poking out. One of her hands was fisted in the faux-satin, the other arm awkwardly poking out of the sheets and halfway off the bed. Merula dropped the bag at the side of the bed with a heavy clunk and, after a moment’s hesitation, sat in the seat next to the bed. 

Staying for a few minutes wouldn’t matter, she reasoned, she didn’t have anywhere else to be now that her match was canceled. 

She leaned forward in the chair and propped her chin up on her hand, lazily scrutinizing the girl before her. The Ravenclaw was faintly snoring, which she had no issue with, but she was also drooling all over the pillow, which was much grosser. Her hair was all mussed up, presumably from trying to get comfortable enough in the thin hospital beds to actually sleep, and Merula found herself leaning forward to try and smooth it all back down. 

She faltered just before she was about to touch the mess of golden blonde. What was she doing? Merula hated her – possibly, maybe. That sentiment seemed to grow weaker with every passing week, especially since they danced together at the Celestial Ball, and especially-especially at the Weasley’s – no, no, no. Shaking her head, she tried to push back the heat that prickled up her neck and failed. She hated her. She did. But she couldn’t bring herself to pull her hand away. 

It was fine. She was fine. No one was around anyways, and Solokov was asleep. No one would know. And if anyone were to pull back the curtains, she’d hex them. Yeah, she liked quite liked that idea. 

So, Merula went to work combing her fingers through her hair, cringing at the sweat that clung to the strands but mostly focused on her task of making it not stick up like an angry knarl. At least she’d brushed her hair, so it wasn’t just a sweaty, stringy clump that she had to untangle, but she supposed that was bare minimum effort. 

There were a few close calls where Solokov shifted around in her sleep, causing Merula to freeze in her administrations, heart jack-rabbiting in her chest as she watched her settle back just mere seconds later. Satisfied with her work, Merula sat back and basked in her weird sense of pride. 

“Why’d you stop?” 

Jolting up, Merula flailed for a purchase in her chair and managed to right herself before she fell out. Shocked violet eyes met tired grey ones, and Solokov looked up at her with an exhausted and slightly-confused look.

“You – you were awake this entire time?!” Merula hoped and prayed to whatever higher power there was that she couldn’t see the blush that was lighting her face on fire. God knows her voice crack was already embarrassing enough. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?! I just – I was just – “ 

Solokov looked far more smug than she ought to have been, and she was practically itching to hex that look out of her dumb grey eyes. She tilted her head like she was the picture of innocence and she wasn’t sending the Slytherin into cardiac arrest. “I knew if I said anything then you would have stopped.” 

“Yeah, obviously?! I have a fucking reputation, Solokov! I can’t just – “ she clenched her fists and made concerning noises – “just – you know! Do _that!”_

She frowned. “No one’s around, though. It’s just me.” 

Merula, for the life of her, could not figure out how to explain that she’s the most important person to keep up her reputation in front of without losing what dignity she had left. “That’s not the point! It’s just – you, and I, and I just… ugh! You’re infuriating!” 

Solokov tilted her head and scrutinized her, and Merula felt the flush spread up to the tips of her ears. She scooched closer to the edge of the bed and stretched her arms out with a low groan (doing utterly nothing for her flustered state) before her hand flailed around for a moment and landed on Merula’s knee. 

Those dreaded puppy-eyes were back again, only magnified by the sleep she kept blinking out of her eyes. “Please, Snyde?” 

She tried her best to resist, she really did. In the end, though, her resolve crumbled, and she bit her lip and reached forward, brushing her fingers over her feverish scalp once more. It garnered an unfairly content hum and a stupidly sweet smile as Solokov closed her eyes and leaned further into her fingers. 

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” She mumbled almost fondly. 

The Ravenclaw didn’t even bother opening her eyes – or her mouth, for that matter. “Mmmph?” 

“You, Solokov. You’re an utter moron – “ and, she added under her breath – “a persuasive one at that.” 

“…Kat.” 

“What was that?” 

She cracked one eye open to carefully regard her. Merula noted her cheeks darkening in the dim lighting; ah, fuck. “Call me ‘Kat’. Everyone else does.” 

“No way. Me calling you – that – and you calling me Snyde would be weird.”

“Come on, I’ll call you by your first name too. I’ll do it right now.” Opening her other eye, she tared at her. “Merula.” 

There was a dumb flop in her stomach that she chalked up to nausea. “Stop that.” 

“Merula.” 

“Quit it.” 

“Merula-Merula. Lu-Lu – HA!” Her laugh was a happy, yet mucus-clogged affair. “What if I started calling you Lu-Lu – “ 

“I will call you Kat if you stop!” Merula fisted her hand in her hair and gave it a sharp tug, though the subsequent yelp-cough didn’t give her back the dignity she’d lost. “And if you call me ‘Lu-Lu’ – “ she spat the accursed nickname like it was a disturbingly crunchy bit in a cake – “again, I swear on Merlin I’ll put you in St. Mungos.” 

“I suppose I’m already in the hospital,” she mused teasingly, “What’s another trip?” 

_“Solokov.”_

_“Lu-Lu.”_

“Ugh, fine – “ she took a deep breath and braced herself for the inevitable curb-stomping of the rest of her ego – “…Kat.” 

A foolishly cheery grin spread over her face, nearly blinding in the dim light. It made her stomach do stupid things. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

“Sorry, I just – “ Kat’s airy little giggle caused her heart to trip down the metaphorical stairs. She should get that checked out – “I didn’t know that the way to finally get you to say my first name was to call you a nickname… if I knew that I would have done it a while ago.” 

Merula’s not quite sure that Kat would have survived calling her that – much less herself. “If you want me to keep petting you, you’ll shut the fuck up.” 

The Ravenclaw blinked and immediately snuggled further into her sheets, looking up at her expectantly. “Shutting up now.” 

She scoffed and traced a nail around her skull. Yeah, right, she’d give it five minutes before she asked her some banal question and they'd start arguing again. But for now, she was content to sit in the silence and avoid her soft stare. At the very least, until Madam Pomfrey caught wind that she hadn’t left and yelled at her about visiting hours. 

But until then, it was nice. 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw for emetophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [slaps this chapter onto my work and scurries back to my silly little doghouse]

Kat had been worried all morning. This was, of course, rather normal for the teen, however it also wasn’t normal at all. It wasn’t her usual anxieties, like: _‘what if my stomach makes weird noises in the middle of class’_ or _‘what if Snape yells at me again’_ or _’what if I wake up one day and I can see color and everything is just still just greyscale I’d never know’_ or even god forbid _‘what if this is all a hallucination and I’m actually sitting in the empty parking lot of an Arby’s covered in sandwich wrappers and fry grease’_ , though those were still as pessimistically persistent as ever. But none of those terrifying thoughts were the reason she had an cursed-ice-covered rock sinking into the pit of her stomach today, no sir.

The source of most of her worries this morning happened to be one Merula Snyde. Now, Kat had no problems admitting she wasn’t the cause of an alarming number of stressful incidents in the past, but today it wasn’t about something she did, or was going to do, per se. At least, she hoped she wasn’t going to do anything, judging from her physical state.

From the moment she stepped into the classroom – rather late for the Slytherin, only around two minutes before the final bell – she looked like she’d been run over several times by the Knight Bus. Her usual scraggily hair was even more mussed up than it usually was and fell in damp strands around her head (Kat didn’t even want to know if that was water or just sweat. Unfortunately, she figured it was the latter.). Her face was stained an unhealthily pale pallor, aside from her cheeks which were darkly flushed; her eye makeup stood out even more on her sickly-pale skin. Speaking of, the bags under her eyes looked just as dark as her eyeshadow and could probably carry a full bag of gorceries each. The normally attentive gaze she held was now glazed over and bleary, and she seemed to be focusing on nothing and everything at once. Her hands were shaking as she weighed ingredients and haphazardly skinned and chopped them, just barely missing the tips of her fingers with the polished silver blade.

Kat frowned, ignoring her simmering potion (it still needed a couple of minutes over that heat anyways) in favor of watching Merula. In her mind, there was probably a good, prideful explanation that would counter any accusation about staring, but in truth she was just really, really worried about her. She noted that the Slytherin kept swallowing periodically, though whether from excessive mucus to something a lot grosser she couldn’t say. After a few moments under her steady gaze, Merula glanced at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Why the hell do you keep staring at me?” Merula asked as she shakily dropped what smelled like minced ginger root into her potion. “More than usual, even. Quite a feat for you since you seem to be obsessed with me.”

Kat’s brows knitted, but she didn’t rise to the bait like she normally would. Instead, she blurted out what she’d been wondering since she walked in, “Are you okay?”

Merula blinked; for a moment, she looked nervous. “Uh, yeah…? Are you actually blind as well as colorblind? Look at me, I’m fine.”

Her eyes narrowed. Well, if they were going to go down this frustrating rabbit hole, so be it. “I am looking at you, and you’re clearly not fine.”

“Are you deaf as well as blind? I literally just said I was okay. What about me looks not okay, you moron.”

As the Ravenclaw took a deep breath and Merula felt like she probably shouldn’t have challenged her like that. “First off, you’re sweating and it’s like ten degrees in here, plus you’re shivering, and I don’t think those two would happen at the same time unless you were sick. Also, you’re pale. Like, super pale. Vampire-without-a-meal-pale. And where you’re not pale, you’re flushing – which I think is red? Is it red? Whatever, your cheeks are darker than the rest of your face – and wow, continue to darken, I didn’t think that was possible – “

“Okay, okay! Stop!” Merula smacked a hand over her mouth. “I get it, okay? So, I might be a little under the weather – did you just fucking _lick me_ you psycho?!”

She snatched her hand back and wiped it on her robes with a betrayed look. Kat smacked her lips and ran her tongue over her teeth. “Yeah, and it was disgusting. Your hand tastes like salt and ginger.”

“That’s because we’re in potions you utter imbecile! Plus, I didn’t make you lick my hand, you did that all on your own.” She rolled her eyes as far back as they could go. “God, I’m not even that sick. You’re just being delusional, as always.”

“I’m being delusional? I’m not the one who looks like she’s about to pass out and yet still insists she’s fine.” She blew air through her nose in a harsh sigh. “Come here, I’ll prove it to you.”

“What are you gonna do, clock me – “

Kat, who was quickly growing tired of her charade, grabbed Merula by the collar of her sweater and pulled her towards her. Ignoring the surprised choke that came from her, she slapped her hand firmly to her forehead and placed her own on the back of her hand to compare. She felt the puffs of warm air from the Slytherin’s nose ghost just under her lips, but she was far more preoccupied with the matter at hand. Even though the Ravenclaw ran a few degrees cooler than usual, she knew that the blazing heat that nearly seared her hand was far from the typical human body temperature.

“I knew it,” she breathed. A long silence stretched between them, and okay, maybe she stayed pressed up against her longer than was necessary, but that didn’t matter.

However, the moment was cut short by Merula shoving against her chest and snarling, “Get off me!”

Shoved a little too hard, apparently, as Kat flailed backwards, trying to regain purchase on her stool. She ended up grabbing the rim of her hot cauldron as leverage and let out a loud yelp as the scalding metal seared into the delicate flesh of her palm. Hissing in pain, she held her hand to her chest and tried to blow on her burned skin, oblivious to the gazes that had snapped her way and the one stricken look painted across a certain Slytherin’s face.

A dark shadow loomed over her. Professor Snape opened his mouth to sneer, “What seems to be the problem, Solokov?”

“Oh, I just burned my hand – but that’s not really that important – “ she hesitated, before blurting out – “Merula’s sick but won’t admit it, can I take her to the hospital wing and maybe-also-possibly get treatment for my burn?”

It took the professor a few seconds to parse through how fast she spoke, but he turned to Merula with a critical eye. She sputtered before insisting, “That’s not true! I’m perfectly fine – “

“Miss Snyde,” he interrupted her with a droning tone as icy as the depths of the Black Lake, “I may not be an… expert, in matters of the body, but I can clearly see that you’re ill. Why you felt like you had to come to my class and spread your germs around is beyond me. You will accompany Solokov to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey take a look at you.” He turned to Kat. “Solokov, you’ll make up the potion after class today.”

Kat winced internally as Merula tried to protest. “But – “

“Miss Snyde, I will not ask again. You will accompany Solokov to the infirmary, or I will be forced to take house points. Do I make myself clear?”

Merula screwed up her face to snarl something back, but after a moment she deflated in defeat. She slipped out of her seat with what little pride she could muster and grabbed the back of Kat’s hair and yanked it, nearly pulling the Ravenclaw out of her seat as she suppressed a pain-filled whine. Snape, predictably, pretended not to see or just didn’t care; Kat was banking on the latter. Grimacing, she let her injured hand hang loosely at her side as hopped off her stool, trailing out the door behind her.

They made it a couple meters down the dungeon’s hallway when Merula turned sharply on her heel and glared Kat into freezing in her tracks.

“I hope you’re happy, given how you fucking humiliated me in front of Snape,” she snapped, “I was doing just fine until you had to open your filthy fucking mouth.”

The Ravenclaw balked. “I was just trying to look out for you!”

“Yeah, well I had it under control until you decided to fuck it all up!”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, that’s what you are.” Kat growled, taking a step forwards so she was right in Merula’s face. “Two weeks ago you were ragging on me for dueling while I was sick, and then you turn around and pull this bullshit! I don’t know why I even bother half the time.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I collapse on the floor? Did I? No! No, I did not! So you can’t even make that comparison!” She harshly poked her finger into Kat’s chest. “And you bother because you can’t help but bother! You push and you push, and for some reason you’re such a dumb fucking moron that you can’t understand why people get angry with you when you go too far!”

“W-Well, at least I don’t try and fucking assault people when they want to help me!” Kat held up her hand and pointed to the fresh burn on her palm. “This wouldn’t have even fucking happened if you hadn’t shoved me when I was clearly just trying to help!”

Merula opened her mouth to retort, but what came out was a horrific mix of a cough, a bark, and a hiccough. She turned a queer shade of pale, and before either of them could react, promptly puked all over Kat’s front. She leapt back with a loud cry of disgust as Merula coughed up what remained of what she’d last eaten onto the floor; her own guts were trying their hardest to come back up through her throat.

“Merula, what the _FUCK_ – “

Kat cut herself off as the Slytherin raised her head and she got a good look at her, and her expression drooped from shocked outrage to hesitant concern. There was no delicate way of putting this: if she seemed bad before, she looked positively terrible now. Tears were streaming down her face, and something told Kat that they weren’t all vomit-induced. Merula looked at her with horrified anticipation, as if she was just waiting for her to scream at her like she’d accidentally snapped her wand in half. Kat was struck with the knowledge that she was also just fourteen, and if she’d thrown up on someone, she’d probably be curled up into a ball on the floor and bawling her eyes out.

Merula visibly flinched as Kat slipped her wand out of her back pocket, and something in her heart cracked in two at the sight.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay – “ she swallowed back her rising bile as she looked down at the mess on her sweater and pants, and tapped her wand to it – “it’s fine, okay? It’s perfectly fine. See – _Evanesco.”_ It worked first try – thank Merlin – and she let out a sigh of relief as it was vanished. Kat did the same to the lingering splatters on the floor and gave Merula a hesitant smile. “See? Everything’s gone. It’s all okay. I’m okay, the floor’s okay, you’re… well, you’re not really okay, but Pom’ll fix that.”

Merula sniffled but made no move to say anything as Kat took a couple steps forward. She didn’t even look at her as she stopped in front of her once again, eyes stubbornly fixated onto the floor. Her hands clenched at her side as Kat poked her wand to her cheek and mumbled _”Scourgify”,_ getting rid of the rest of the vomit stained on her chin. She did smack Kat’s hand that tried to reassuringly squeeze her shoulder.

“Don’t fucking coddle me,” she croaked, looking to the side and wrapping an arm around herself.

“Understood,” Kat fidgeted in place in front of her for a moment, before stowing her wand in her back pocket and planting herself at her side. She bumped her shoulder with the Slytherin’s and quietly asked, “You wanna go to the hospital wing now?”

Her reply was immediate. “Fucking obviously.”

At least she wasn’t miserable enough to stop snarking at her – or was that because of the misery? Kat couldn’t tell. Either way, she took a small chance and grabbed Merula’s hand with her uninjured one and lead her the rest of the way down the hall and up the stairs. She didn’t even try to yank her hand away or kick at the backs of her knees like the last time she did when Kat lead her somewhere (one of her legs buckled and she was unfairly smug for the rest of the day.)

Now that she wasn’t in the thoroughs of arguing or getting puked on, Kat could feel the searing itch in her hand spark up once more. Gritting her teeth, she flexed and tensed her hand, like it would do anything to relieve the burning that crawled up through the center of her palm to the tips of her fingers.

After a couple of minutes spent traversing Hogwarts’ many corridors and feeling the burn progress from ‘annoying irritant’ to ‘oh god I’m going to lose my entire hand if I don’t fix this soon’, they arrived at the hospital wing’s double doors. Kat was struck with a weird sense of déjà vu as Merula awakened from the mostly catatonic state she was in throughout the trek and reached open to pull the door open. The Ravenclaw lead her through the infirmary until they found Madam Pomfrey jotting something down on a clipboard, which was good since Kat was around six seconds away from gnawing through her own wrist to make the pain stop.

“Solokov… and Snyde.” Pomfrey raised an eyebrow as she looked up from her clipboard. “What on earth happened to the both of you? Miss Snyde, come with me, you look like death warmed over. Oh, but first – Solokov, give me your hand.” She offered her hand like it was up for tribute to the healer, and she tapped it lightly with her wand. _”Episkey.”_

Though her hand was as good as new, Kat still didn’t let go of Merula as she trailed after Madam Pomfrey, even as the nurse shot her a look. Since the Slytherin didn’t try to shake her off, she tentatively counted it as a win. She only let go when she tried to sit down on the edge of the bed and Pomfrey shooed her off, so she took up residence hovering anxiously next to the nurse as she checked her over.

“Fever… chills… sweating…” The healer mumbled under her breath as the Slytherin sat there being poked and prodded with her wand, trying her hardest to burn two holes into the floor with her eyes. “Any nausea?” A hesitant nod. “Alright… how about vomiting?” Another, shakier nod.

“On me actually…” Kat mumbled under her breath. A bit too loudly, apparently, as Merula flinched and Pomfrey glanced back at her. She shrugged; sure, it was awful, but she vanished it and it was all fine in the end, right? Pomfrey gave her the patented ‘I’m-too-preoccupied-to-roll-my-eyes-but-I-assure-you-I’m-doing-it-on-the-inside’ look that she had perfected over the years as a school nurse.

After a few more wellbeing questions that Merula tried her hardest to be vague about, the healer left to concoct some magical feel-better potion and ordered her to lay down until she got back. Kat stood awkwardly next to the bed as she slipped off her shoes and laid down, turning on her right side to look up at her with one scrutinizing eye.

“Why are you still here?” Merula’s voice came through a little muffled by the pillow.

“I just… you know…” She shuffled from foot to foot and scratched where her palm had just healed. “Um, I heard bread and salt help calm nausea, and I’ve got some loose saltines in my robes – “

“I do not want your pocket saltines. Why are you still here, you idiot?”

“I dunno, I just…” Kat sighed heavily and collapsed in the chair by the bed (“No, stop that, leave.”), still itching at her newly healed skin. “I kinda feel bad just leavin’ you here…”

“You feel bad? I’m the one who puked on you, moron.” She scoffed. “I thought you’d jump at the chance to leave me to my misery.”

Bringing her knees up to her chin, she felt a weird stab of something at the statement and tilted her head so that her cheek was pressed against her kneecap. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… I’ve been mean to you for a while now.” She averted her gaze and began to pick at a stray edge of the scratchy pillowcase. “I didn’t think you would care if I got sick or not. Thought you’d be glad seeing me humiliate myself.”

“Merula, you practically carried me to the infirmary two weeks ago. I mean, sure, you haven’t really been the nicest, but I kinda owe it to you.”

“Is that was this was about? That we’re even now?”

Slouching forward, Kat hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe…? Not all of it. I do care about you, Merula.”

The Slytherin blinked as she processed this statement and settled back into her pillow, stretching the momentary quiet into a comfortable silence. Merula rolled onto her back and folded her hands over her stomach as Kat dropped her feet down to the floor and crossed one leg over the other. They sat in silence for a few moments, before the Slytherin’s expression twisted from thoughtful to a little bit remorseful.

“Kat…” She refused to meet her eyes and stubbornly stared at the ceiling. “I’m… sort of sorry that I threw up on you. Not a lot.”

Kat snorted. “Thanks. I kinda deserved it a little bit, I guess.”

“You absolutely did. One hundred percent. Maybe ninety-eight.”

“Hey, I’ll take two percent.” She shrugged and grinned. “Better than one, at the very least.”

“Mhm.” A few more seconds of silence, and then Merula sighed so heavily it was like she took the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Merlin, I’m going to regret this, but… is there anyway I could make it up to you?”

Kat’s spine straightened and she looked at her incredulously. “You? Want to do something? For me?”

“Stop looking at me like that and fucking answer, nitwit, or I won’t do anything for you at all.”

“Oh, yeah, right, okay,” she cleared her throat, “Um… come with me to Zonko’s?”

Merula furrowed her eyebrows. “That’s it? You just want me to come with you to some dumb joke shop?”

“Hey, that dumb joke shop just restocked the Acid Pops, and they happen to be delicious.”

“I’m… not even going to ask how and why you enjoy burning a hole through your tongue.” She shrugged, a bit awkwardly since she was laying down. “Fine. Sure. I’ll buy you your weird prank candy.”

Kat, who just wanted her to come with her and didn’t even consider that she would buy her anything, immediately began to plan how many she could get away with. Grinning broader, she crowed, “Really? Then it’s a date!”

“What?” Merula’s cheeks darkened another shade as she stared up at her, mouth agape. “A d-date? This… this isn’t a date. Dates are where you dress nice and go somewhere nice. It’s – it’s not a date.”

Undeterred, Kat smiled sweetly at her. “Aw, come on. It doesn’t have to be a romantic date – “ Merula made a weird noise, what was that about? – “it can be a friend-date!” She laughed sheepishly and scratched the underside of her jaw. “Is there such a thing as a friend-date? I think it’s just hanging out…?”

Merula had recovered from her momentary heart attack and rolled her eyes, rolling over in bed. “Yeah, yeah. Now leave me alone. Madam Pomfrey told me to rest and I can’t do that if I have a moron jabbering in my ear every minute.”

Kat hummed happily and stood, brushing off her robes. She was struck with a surge of confidence in the wake of her accepted proposal. “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll go. Oh – wait – Merula could you face me for a moment?”

Merula turned over, frowning as she did so. “The hell do you want now – “

Quick as a flash, Kat bent down and pressed a small peck to the crown of her sweaty forehead. She straightened up, flushed and maybe a bit too cheery, and chirped, “Bye, Merula! I’ll see you at Zonko’s this Saturday!”

Kat practically skipped away, oblivious to Merula’s shellshocked stare and the way her hand shakily touched the spot on her forehead.

It was going to be an interesting weekend, that was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda funny how so far, all of my kat-pov’s have been angstier than my merula ones lol. ig i’m just exploring character conflict hdjsks

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on my tumblr and talk hphm with me! https://struckbyelectriclove.tumblr.com/
> 
> (not me rushing to post this to be the 100th work in the tag no sir...)


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